


Travels Into One Remote Nation Of The World

by Perfica



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 1000-3000 words, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-26
Updated: 2007-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the inaugural mcshep_match games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travels Into One Remote Nation Of The World

The e-card was the last item in Rodney's list of transmissions. The invitation was lurid; a triple assault of primary colors, oversized Comic Sans font and a cartoon ballerina with curly red hair dancing on point while tinny music looped 'Happy Birthday' in the background.

 _You're Invited!_ , it said. _Come celebrate my birthday with me_.

At the bottom of the page was a space for individualized messages. Thankfully, the text in that box was no more than font size twelve, Times New Roman and black in color.

 _DEAR UNCLE MER,_

 _MOM SAID IT WOLD BE NICE TO INVITE U TO MY BIRTHDAY._

 _PARTY. IT IS ON AUGUST 25. IT IS A SATURDAY._

 _I WOLD LIKE TO SEE U AGAIN._

 _I AM GOING TO BE SIX._

 _WILL U COME? MOM SAID ITS RUDE TO ASK FOR PRESANTS. DAD SAID ITS GOOD TO TELL THE TRUTH._

 _I WOLD LIKE A MY TAKEALONG DOLL HOUSE BECASE IT COMES IN A LITTLE SUIT CASE SO NO MESS. IF THEY HAVE RAN OUT THEN I WOLD LIKE A BRATZ MP3 PLAYER SO I CAN SING WITH MY FRIENDS OR A EASY BAKE OVEN SO I CAN COOK WITH FOR THEM._

 _IF YOU BUY IT FOR ME I WILL BAKE YOU A CUPCAKE. IT WILL HAVE NO LEMON BUT LOTS OF CHOCLATE AND SPRINKELS._

 _LOVE,_

 _MADISON AMBER MILLER THE FIRST._

 _P.S. I TOLD MOM I WOLD SPELL CHECK THIS BUT I DIDN'T. I THINK I RIGHT FINE._

 _P.P.S. U CAN BRING A FRIEND. I WILL HAVE FRIENDS SO U CAN HAVE ONE TO._

 

~~~

 

The Go-Go's 'Our Lips Are Sealed' could be heard from the street as John pulled into the driveway, two bags of ice leaking water onto the upholstery of the hire car's front seat. Excited squeals were occasionally heard over the blaring music - high-pitched, enthusiastic and somewhat breathless.

"Thanks," Jeannie said as she closed the front door behind him. "You're a life-saver."

"No problem," John said, tearing into the plastic bags and tipping ice cubes into the kitchen sink. "No offence, but it was nice to get away for a bit."

Jeannie winced. "It's the screaming, isn't it?"

John shrugged one shoulder. "I'm used to the screaming - that's Rodney's usual setting - it's just a little..."

"Shrill? Eyeball penetrating? Nails running down a blackboard torture?"

"A little of all of the above," John said, pointing a wet finger at her.

"Why do you think I'm pounding out the Best Of The 80's Super Girl Bands?" Jeannie asked, smiling as the CD player clicked over to the next song. The kitchen was filled with the mellow sound of the Bangles crooning 'Eternal Flame.' "I love her with every bone in my body but the next time we throw a birthday party, it'll be family only. I still don't know how she managed to convince me that inviting ten of her closest little girlfriends was a good idea."

"She must have inherited that McKay charm."

"Ha ha, Colonel," Jeannie said. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Get out there and save my brother."

"Who, me?" John said, trying his best to look innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a guest. I'm staying in the guest room so - "

"Shut up, you charmer; you don't fool me. You're as much a guest as Meredith is. You can either brave the pack of kindergarteners outside or you can stay in here and help me with the cupcakes."

John opened his mouth to speak.

"During which time," Jeannie said loudly and coolly, "I will regale you with the delightful memories I have of Madison's birth, from epidural to episiotomy, with a detour into the magical wonders of the placenta."

"Um," John said.

"You know what? I'm pretty sure I remember where Caleb put the video."

"I'll be outside," John hollered, bouncing off the sliding door in his haste to get to the backyard. Through the glass, Jeannie smiled evilly at him, her teeth looking unusually large and shiny.

"Lecture tour, my ass," John said under his breath. "You're one smart son of a bitch, Caleb."

The yard was surprisingly empty of little girls. The swing set in the corner was bare as was the turtle shell sandbox. Rodney, too, was nowhere to be seen.

Before John could call out, a trio of children spilled out from the curtain-covered doorway of the jumping castle. It was magnificent: four spires that reached for the sky and wobbled with every breeze; a picture of a fire-breathing dragon swooping down from the sky, painted on its side; a brave princess with a sparkly crown set jauntily over one eye raising a magic wand skyward; a dashing prince in silver armor mounted on a charging horse.

The jumping castle _rocked_.

"Hi, John," Madison said.

"Hi, John," the identical twins on either side of her echoed.

"Ladies," John said smoothly. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yes," Madison said.

"Yes," the twins repeated.

John didn't back away; he wasn't scared of _little girls_ , dammit, but they were a bit too 'Children Of The Corn' for his liking. Then it hit him.

"Where's your Uncle Meredith?" he asked, frowning.

"He's - "

"Madison!" the twin on the right said. "You're not allowed to say."

"It's a secret," the one on the left said.

"It's not a secret," Madison replied stubbornly. "If I want to tell John, then I can. It's my birthday."

"It was your idea," both twins said.

A shiver abruptly ran up John's spine. Yeah, creepy.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not and even if it was it's _my_ birthday and _my_ Uncle Mer and you better stop it right now or I'm telling my mom!"

"Now hang on a minute - " John said, scratching the back of his neck. He had a flashback to eating lunch with Teyla, Elizabeth and Dr. Heightmeyer and feeling just as overwhelmed.

"Madison," Jeannie bellowed from the backdoor. "The cupcakes are ready. Get your friends inside and we'll decorate them."

"Cupcakes!" the twins squealed and scampered towards the house.

"Cake?" A girl screamed from the entrance of the jumping castle. "Cake!" she said, looking back over her shoulder. "There's cupcakes and we get to decorate them!"

What felt like _way more_ than ten six-year olds rushed past John in an inelegant stampede. John felt something tugging at the bottom of his shirt and looked down.

"He's in there," Madison said, tilting her head towards the castle.

"Your Uncle Meredith's in the jumping castle?"

Madison nodded forlornly. "I asked him to come and jump with me. Mom said he had to watch us while she got out the presents and stuff. It was supposed to be fun."

"Hey now," John said, crouching down. Madison's face had started to turn an unattractive shade of red as she tried to hold back tears. The sight wrung an unexpected pain in his chest. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's fine. Your uncle loves you, you know that. I bet he had a lot of fun."

Madison snorted. The sound was surprisingly familiar. "I don't think so. He said some swears."

"Oh, did he now?" John said, standing up, wincing as one of his knees cracked.

"It was funny. I don't know what some of them mean but they sound cool."

"Don't let your mom hear you repeat any of those, cool or not. She'll tan your behind."

"My mommy doesn't believe in spanking," Madison said, primly. "She says that children respond best to careful, loving instructions and that disobedience is no reason to physically assault them."

"Wow," John said.

"I'll tell you a secret," Madison said, gesturing with a curled finger.

John bent over.

"Uncle Mer said shit," she whispered loudly in his ear. She giggled. "Shit's a bad word."

"It sure is," John sighed.

Madison kissed him on the cheek, leaving a wet impression behind. "Gotta go. Cupcakes! Don't forget Uncle Mer."

John squared his shoulders and frowned at the castle. Why would Rodney still be in there?

Fire-breathing dragons, indeed.

 

~~~

 

"Hey there, Gulliver," John said with a grin.

Rodney scowled. "Stow it," he barked and continued struggling against his bonds.

John snickered as he knee-walked into the castle. He'd been teasing but actually wasn't too far off the mark. It looked like Rodney had been taken down by a pack of Lilliputians.

Rodney was trussed from knees to biceps, brightly colored string wrapped tight around his body. His hands opened and closed futilely in front of him, wrists bound too tight to wiggle, too tight to allow his thick fingers to pluck at the series of bows that had been tied in random places along his torso. A cheerful festoon of streamers was wrapped carefully around his neck like a scarf.

"Oh, Meredith, what _am_ I going to do with you?" John asked, sliding down the wall to sit beside Rodney, who was flat on his back and flailing like a hooked fish.

"I mean it, Colonel - do not say another word unless those words are, 'Why yes, Rodney, it would be my pleasure to set you free.'"

"I don't think so," John said, casually crossing one ankle over the other and leaning comfortably on an elbow. "I think I want to hear a story. Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you tell me the one about the grown man that got captured by a group of school girls?"

"I hate you," Rodney said, eyes narrowing. "I know I bandy the word hate around but in this instance, I absolutely mean it. Despise, detest, loathe and abhor..."

"Is that any way to talk to the guy that's going to cut you out of this?" John asked.

"Cut? With a knife? Because you know I'm not good with sharp instruments. I have an unholy fear of - "

"Did you try gnawing your way out? Your canines look pretty sharp."

"Goddammit, Colonel," Rodney said, squirming in rage. His shirt had bunched up on one side and John could see the thin line of hair that ran from Rodney's sternum to bellybutton. He laid his palm over the line.

"Um," Rodney said dumbly, stilling suddenly.

"You've got my complete attention, Rodney. Tell me what happened."

"Well, we, uh, were playing a game," Rodney stuttered. "I was the big scary giant - "

"And Madison and her friends were the angry villagers?" John teased.

"Yes, and - I don't know how they convinced me to lie still while they tied me down," Rodney began ranting again. "Stupid birthdays. Stupid feelings of familial affection."

"Stop struggling. You're getting all hot and sweaty," John soothed. "Relax. I'll get you out of this."

"Sure, that's - but with the hand..."

John trailed his thumb ever so slowly down the line of hair to Rodney's bellybutton, circled the rim a couple of times, dipped even lower for a split second than ran it back up, detouring to press into one of Rodney's nipples.

"I always wondered what it'd be like to have your full attention," John said. "I didn't realize that you'd have to be tied up for that to happen."

"I listen. I always listen when there's something import - something I'm interested in," Rodney protested softly.

"Are you listening now?" John asked, thumb moving back and forth as it teased the sensitive patch of skin.

"I'm sort of a captive audience," Rodney said, pausing then continuing abruptly. "Your hand."

"Do you want me to move it?" John murmured.

"No, I - " Rodney mumbled, color filling his face as he strained upwards.

John lowered to meet him, his other hand supporting the back of Rodney's neck as their lips touched. Rodney's mouth moved as if it were unsure of its welcome. He trailed soft nibbling kisses from the side of John's mouth to his cheekbone, hesitating before returning to John's lips for a shy touch of tongue.

John's hand tightened in Rodney's hair and he opened wide, giving hard wet kisses that were quickly returned with equal vigor. Thrusts of tongue morphed into thrusts of a different kind when John rolled on top and, spreading his legs, planted his knees on either side of Rodney's thighs. His palms slid over the slightly sticky plastic as he struggled to maintain purchase, moaning at the greedy grasp of Rodney's fingers digging into his stomach.

"Yeah," John said against Rodney's neck, denim-covered groin rubbing delightfully against Rodney's stiff lower body.

"This isn't a bondage kink, is it?" Rodney gasped as John sucked on his earlobe. "Not that I've got anything against that but I'm much better at this when I'm free to fully participate."

"You feel really good," John said.

"So do you," Rodney said, body rolling in waves as the floor of the castle bucked in time with their thrusts. "Oh, god - right there."

"Wanna fuck you," John growled against his mouth. "Can I fuck you tonight?"

"You can fuck me right now if you get me out of this damn _string_!"

John reared back and, in a fit of passion, attacked Rodney's bindings with his bare hands.

"Over - , no, not there," Rodney gasped, trying to help. "Don't pull - ow! That's my chest hair!"

"Stupid...fucking...rope," John panted, fingers turning red as they dug under taut twine. "Hey, ouch, don't twist that way."

"Will you just..." Rodney huffed, struggling.

A hoarse grunt erupted from John's lungs as he fell onto his side, hands cupping agonised balls.

"Oh, shit, did I - ? Fuck, we're going to die in a plastic fucking castle."

Tears of pain started to leak out from behind John's tightly squeezed eyelids.

Rodney stared at him, aghast, then roared at the ceiling. "Kindergarteners will be responsible for our deaths."

"Not dying," John wheezed, wincing. "Just taking a little break from the action."

Minutes passed as they lay next to each other, sticky with sweat and still slightly aroused, catching their breaths.

"I'm feeling faint," Rodney whined. "Do I look pale?"

John, still panting, rolled over and kissed his temple. "You look fine. No more pale and sweaty than usual."

"Then why do I feel like all the blood is rushing to my head?"

"My kissing was so good it's gonna make you pass out?" John said, mouth quirking as he slid over to capture another kiss.

"I really do feel faint," Rodney said, his swollen lips a pleasant heat against John's mouth.

"My kissing makes you swoon?" John mumbled.

"No...I feel like...why is my head...dammit!" Rodney said, struggling to sit up. "I'm on an incline."

John rolled from his hip to his ass and, balancing on one hand, noticed that there was a lot more give to the base of the castle than there had been before. Rodney, still trapped on his back like an irate turtle, was turning red in the face. His feet were higher than his head.

"Shit," John said, tugging on Rodney's trapped elbows until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder. "We've sprung a leak."

There was no time to cut Rodney loose (and John had been lying about the knife anyway) so the next few minutes involved a lot more huffing and swearing and shrieks of pain and possible friction to sensitive skin until John popped out of the entrance with Rodney's ankles firmly in hand. Rodney's body bounced down each step, his ass taking the brunt of the force while John swaggered like a pirate stepping onto dry land for the first time in months, a leeward lean in his gait.

"Okay, that was fun," Rodney said breathlessly. "Let's never do that again."

"Some parts of it were fun," John said as he collapsed against Rodney with a rapacious gleam in his eye. "Right? Am I right?"

"You know you look dim-witted, don't you? I've seen coked-up squirrels that look more sane."

"Tonight," John said, nudging his shoulder against Rodney's. "You and me. Rubbing. Sucking. Lube. The whole nine yards."

"Oh, woo me with your football metaphors, big boy," Rodney mocked. "I'm powerless to resist you."

A wide grin split John's face and he leaned in to enjoy a kiss under the clear blue sky. Rodney stubbornly held his pout to make his point then sighed, eyes closing as he returned the kiss with unabashed affection.

"We should go in," John said, pulling away and rubbing Rodney's bound wrists, trying to increase the circulation to his hands.

"In a minute," Rodney said, resting his head on John's shoulder. "Let's wait till my hard-on goes down. I don't want to scare the yahoos."

"You're a scholar and a gentleman, Meredith," John said, lying back against the slowly collapsing castle, closing his eyes to the perfection of nature.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not only do I not own the characters of John Sheppard and Rodney McKay (and his assorted relatives), I also do not own the races of Lilliputians, Yahoos or the country of the Houyhnhnms. They belong to the lucky descendents of Jonathan Swift.


End file.
